September 13, 2004

Kelis Melts Björk's Ice Floe

"Your review of LOVEROCK is perhaps the worst piece of journalism I have ever encountered. Die, yuppie scum."

I received the hate nugget above last Friday, after my review of Guitar Wolf'sLoverockappeared on Pitchfork. The email is both hilarious and curious, as my review was not only exceedingly positive, but quite obviously not about anything remotely connected to the yuppie cabal (polo shirts, Volvos, Bud Light, pleats, dudes named 'Chas', etc.) I emailed the angry yuppie-hater back, thanked him/her for reading, and said that my review isn't journalism. Which is true. Rock criticism is as much a journalistic endeavor as Stone Phillips is a herky jerky dancer. Jeez, don't they teach anything at Vassar anymore?

The Wicker Park soundtrack - buy one today! It's like the Edward Woodward creep-out classic Wicker Man, only this time there's a penultimate battle between the indie kids and their Chad and Trixie aggressors, with the prize being an effigy of Josh Hartnett fashioned from Flash Taco condiments.